


Light Snow Fall

by fuzipenguin



Series: Give and Take [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz comes to Sideswipe for relationship advice. Sideswipe is just as shocked as Jazz is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Snow Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the same 'verse as Students but quite a while after. I could definitely see some readers saying that Jazz and even Sideswipe, are a little OOC in this, but there are reasons.

                “Hey, Siders! Wait up!” Jazz called upon seeing the familiar crimson plating at the end of the hall. The frontliner paused and turned to watch Jazz as he jogged the rest of the distance between them. Sideswipe’s expression was warily curious, and as Jazz got closer, he realized the warrior must have come in off a long range patrol judging by how dull and dusty his plating was.

                “What can I do for you, Jazz?” Sideswipe inquired, propping his hands on his hips and cocking one out to the side at rest.

                “Had a question for you,” Jazz answered, flashing him a grin as he mirrored Sideswipe’s pose.

                “I didn’t do it.”

                Jazz threw his head back and laughed at the immediate response. “C’mon mech, I’m not Prowl. As long as there’s no bodily harm, you know I don’t really care.”

                “Yeah, but you hang with him a lot. Who knows what you might let slip,” Sideswipe said, smirking.

                Jazz rubbed a hand over the back of his helm, feeling a rare stirring of embarrassment. Pit! This wasn’t going to be an awkward conversation in the slightest!

                “Not been hanging with him as much lately. Not that we were ever more than friends anyway. I found a new friend. Little _more_ than a friend, actually,” he said. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

                Sideswipe looked skeptical, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back a fraction. “Are you coming to me for relationship advice, Jazz?”

                “Heh. Uhhh… kinda?” he looked up at the frontliner with a hesitant smile, visor dimming.

                Sideswipe looked as if he were going to speak and then tilted his helm to the side. His expression turned thoughtful as his optics searched Jazz’s face.

                All Jazz could do was wait, knowing that this whole conversation could either be a very bad or very good idea. Sideswipe went through life finding amusement in just about everything, but he was also incredibly loyal. Jazz was hoping Sideswipe could impart a little counsel, while taking everything Jazz told him in confidence.

                “I’m getting the feeling,” Sideswipe finally replied, “that this is a talk best done behind closed doors.”

                Jazz lifted his head and eyed the security camera pointed unerringly in their direction. He gave it, and Red Alert on the other end of it, a little wave and nodded ruefully at Sideswipe. “Yeah. Was hoping to take a trip to your room?”

                Snorting, Sideswipe gave a ‘come along’ motion with his head. “Sure. Just keep your hands to yourself, mister, I got a virtue to protect.”

                Jazz sprang forward, quickly falling into place next to the warrior as he strode down the hallway. “What virtue? Is old Sunshine gonna be there?”

                Sideswipe paused after a few steps, and Jazz swung around to see what the holdup was.

                “He’s on second shift. But you know that anything you say to me, you’re saying to Sunny too, right?”

                Jazz blinked behind his visor. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as the humans said. “I’d rather you keep it between us, but Sunstreaker’s not one to gossip.”

                “No, he ain’t. Neither am I, not if you tell me not to.”

                “This is me _asking_ you not to.”

                There was a beat and then Sideswipe nodded, optics surprisingly serious. “Then I won’t. Come on, you’ve got me dying to know what’s going on, now.”

 

\--

                “I’m sorry, I thought you said Prime,” Sideswipe said, massaging one of his audial horns. “I think my sensors are on the fritz.”

                “No, you heard me right,” Jazz replied, taking another sip of his delightfully tasty, yet quite illicit highgrade Sideswipe had produced as soon as they had walked in. Sideswipe was currently slouched onto the twins’ couch while Jazz had a leg hooked over the armrest of the chair he was sitting in.              

                “Prime. _Our_ Prime?” Sideswipe repeated, disbelieving.

                Jazz grinned. “You know of any other?”

                Sideswipe shook his head, looking like his processor was about to melt out of his optics. “And how long has this been going on?”

                “’bout two months,” Jazz answered, using the Earth vernacular.

                “Wow. Optimus Prime.” Sideswipe took a gulp of his own high grade, shaking his head again. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

                “Wasn’t planning on it,” Jazz said truthfully.

                He had always thought Optimus to be off limits, no matter how much he admired Prime as a leader or appreciated the lines of his brightly-colored frame. On top of that, Jazz had never been one to do more than berth hop, twitchy at the thought of any mech or femme getting too close. It was different with Optimus though; Jazz now often found himself craving Prime’s presence, soothed by the large mech’s calm field.

                “Huh. Hey.” Sideswipe straightened, optics taking on a speculative gleam that made warnings ping all over Jazz’s processor. “What’s he like in the berth?”

                Jazz had to refrain from snarling, feeling a sudden surge of possessiveness come over him that he quickly squashed. He had come here on his own volition, knowing what Sideswipe was like; no point in getting his hackles up over an obviously light-sparked question.  

                “Good,” he replied curtly, sliding his leg down off the armrest and facing the red mech square on.

                Sideswipe stared at him a moment, smiling fading from his lips. “All right. Just wondering,” he drawled, raising his hands up in an obvious ‘I mean no harm’ gesture. “So I’m failing to see the problem.”

                “I wanted…” Jazz trailed off, denta worrying his lower lip. “Well…”

                “What are you here for, exactly, Jazz?” Sideswipe asked, scooting to the edge of the couch and leaning forward.

                Looking at the ceiling for guidance, Jazz finally huffed and dropped his gaze. Primus, this was embarrassing. For millennia, _he’d_ been the one mecha had come to for advice; it had been ages since he had been the one seeking it.

                “Been around a while, you know? Tried a lot of different things, with different mecha. But Optimus…” Jazz finally said.

                “Is vanilla?” Sideswipe suggested. “Because I could so see that.”

                Jazz shook his head in frustration. “No. Well, a little. But he seems willing to try new things. I just… I wanted to try… something different.”

                Sideswipe squinted his optics and tilted his head to the side. “Uh huh. How different we talking about, Jazz?”

                “Not that different!” Jazz hurried to say. “… just… a little… bondage? Some dominance play. Believe it or not, I don’t have a lot of experience in that area.”

                Sideswipe propped his head on his palm, elbow resting on his knee, as he considered Jazz. He didn’t say anything for so long that Jazz began to fidget, something else he never thought he would be reduced to.

                “Naw. I can see that,” Sideswipe finally said, waving a hand through the air and sitting back.

                Jazz’s visor brightened momentarily in surprise. “You can?”

                “Sure. You’re SpecOps. Been in that division practically longer than Sunny and me and have been online, right? You’ve seen things, had things done to you. Can’t imagine being tied up and whipped would be very sexy, when you’ve actually had it done to you by a ‘Con”

                “Yeah, that’s…”

                “Buuut…” Sideswipe continued, “you’ve been in control for so long that letting go of it has a certain appeal too, am I right? And if you’re gonna let go, who else can you trust more than Optimus Prime?”

                Jazz’s jaw dropped. “How did you…? That’s… that’s pretty much it, actually,” he admitted, too shocked at the spot on analysis to even feel a hint of embarrassment.

                “Well, that’s all fine and dandy; good luck to you both. But I gotta ask again, Jazz. What are you doing here?” There was a subtle warning in Sideswipe’s question that caught Jazz’s attention. He worded his answer carefully.

                “I was hinted at that you and Sunstreaker… engaged… in such activities.”

                “Oh? Who said that? What did they say exactly?” Sideswipe leaned forward again, hands placed carefully on his knees.

                “Ratchet,” Jazz admitted. “Didn’t give me specifics, just said he had the feeling that the two of you might be able to give me some suggestions.”

                Sideswipe studied him again for a long moment before relaxing with an optic roll.

                “Medics,” he muttered. “Should have figured he would have thought something was up. Why did you come to me and not Sunny… no, never mind. That was a dumb question,” he said with a hand wave. 

                “I didn’t think your brother would be all that forthcoming,” Jazz said with a rueful smile.

                “You’re right; he wouldn’t be. And what makes you think I’d be any different?” Sideswipe asked, scowl forming. “We’re friendly, Jazz, but you’re still a commanding officer. Why would I give you details about Sunny’s and my personal life? You have no right to even ask.”

                “Woah, woah, Sideswipe!” Jazz said, shooting to his feet with his hands held up, palms facing the irate frontliner who also stood.

                “I meant no disrespect, mech, I hope you know that,” Jazz said, hurrying to try and defuse the situation. Sideswipe was less volatile than his twin, but just as deadly, and Jazz could tell that the frontliner was offended. 

                “I just thought you might have a little advice for me in getting started, but I can leave.” Jazz was already backing up when Sideswipe spoke, a deep tone that caught at something in Jazz’s core and tugged.

                “Jazz. Stop.”

                Jazz froze, regarding the warrior warily. “Yes?”

                Sideswipe met his optics, gaze narrowed. His scowl was gone, but his expression was serious and his stare intense. “Sit down.”

                “I think I’m…”

                “Sit,” Sideswipe repeated in that same sonorous voice, gesturing to the abandoned chair.

                There were a lot of reasons to ignore Sideswipe’s order, and none for Jazz to obey, but he found himself doing so anyway. Keeping a watchful optic on Sideswipe, Jazz sidestepped until the back of his legs met the seat and slowly lowered himself atop it.

                Sideswipe remained standing, towering over Jazz and making him twitchy. The location of every knife and weapon on his body flashed through his processor, and his frame was tense in preparation to _move_ if necessary.

                Snorting, Sideswipe shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest again, and taking a careful step backwards.

                “Have you spoke to Prime about this yet?” Sideswipe asked earnestly, taking another step backwards and sitting down in his original seat.  

                Jazz’s mouth moved, but no sound came out, nonplussed by the suddenly relaxed warrior in front of him who, not more than ten seconds ago, seemed ready to rip his throat out.

                “I… What the Pit, mech?” Jazz sputtered, motioning to where Sideswipe had just been standing. Sideswipe cracked his trademark lopsided grin and waved a hand at him.   

                “I was just messing with you, feeling you out. I’ll help you.”  

                Jazz leaned forward, tilting his head to study the mech in front of him. “You…” he said, pointing at Sideswipe.

                “… are devilishly handsome?” Sideswipe suggested, striking a pose.

                “No. You are a brat.” Jazz fell back in his chair, spark beat beginning to slow from its rapid rhythm now that an altercation seemed to have been avoided.

                “Yeah. You’re not the first mech to say that. Look… I ain’t giving you details about Sunny and me,” Sideswipe said, grin beginning to fade. “Least not without his ok.”

                Jazz vehemently shook his head. “Didn’t want you to. You’re right – that’s your business and yours alone. Just wanted a few tips about how to get started.”

                “Well, first, you gotta talk about it with Optimus. Do you even know what you want?”

                “Just… you know…”Jazz supplied with a shrug.

                Sideswipe threw his hands up in the air. “’You know’? That’s pretty non-descriptive there, Jazz. How’s he going to know what to do unless you tell him? Just guess, throw you over his knee and start spanking you?”

                The image that suddenly popped into Jazz’s processer made his ventilations hitch.

                “Huh. Well. Guess we can check that box,” Sideswipe said, with a speculative look. “You said Optimus seemed willing to try new things. But, taking on a dominant role requires a lot of preparation, something he may not be interested in. You have to make sure he’s ok with this.”

                Jazz nodded. “Yeah, well….” he said, frowning and looking down at his lap, the fingers of one hand rubbing the wrist of another. “I’m not sure if we need all that.”

               All of a sudden, a shadow fell over him, and Jazz’s startled optics looked up to see Sideswipe standing over him again. The warrior quickly dropped into a crouch beside him, taking hold of the wrist Jazz had been rubbing. Jazz froze at the foreign touch, light as it was, spark racing once more.

                “Look at me,” Sideswipe said softly.

                “I am,” Jazz protested.

                “Just because you got that visor on doesn’t mean I know that you’re looking around and calculating eight different ways to take me down and then make a run for it.”

                “Twelve,” Jazz replied after a beat.

                Sideswipe gave him a flash of a grin before sobering again. “Look at me.”

                “I…”

                The grip tightened, the plating creaking alarmingly. “I said look at me!”

                Surprise tore Jazz’s optics away from the possible weapon the table would make, and he fixated on Sideswipe’s gaze. As soon as he did, Sideswipe’s hand fell away. Yet he still felt frozen, pinned in place like a frog on a human’s dissection board.

                “Do you really want this?” Sideswipe asked in a low murmur. Absently, Jazz wondered who in the Pit was crouching before him, because surely it wasn’t the brash, loud warrior he had always thought he’d known.

                “Only you know how far you want to go – if this is just a little bit of spanking for fun… or truly giving up all control to someone else. You’ve got a lot of control, Jazz. You sure you want to give that over to Optimus?”

                Sideswipe’s optics practically bored into Jazz’s, and he couldn’t look away from that unwavering stare. It seemed to travel all the way through his processor, lighting up a hidden set of algorithms that suddenly flicked on with a vengeance.

                “I need to,” Jazz said out of nowhere, in a voice he hardly recognized as his own, broken and ragged around the edges.

                Ever since Optimus had first propped himself over Jazz’s smaller form, bracketing him with his frame and energy field... he had known that he wanted more than just a quick frag. He had wanted to keep feeling safe and protected, to put his trust in someone else in a way he had never been able to before. But this was the first time he had admitted to himself that it was more than just want, but an actual strut-deep need.

                He was just so tired.

                A pleased smile broke over Sideswipe’s face. “That’s the first step.”

                And just like that, the pinned feeling evaporated, and Jazz slumped in place, shakily rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Primus.”

                “The second step is trusting me. Do you think you can you do that?” Sideswipe asked, reaching out and lightly touching Jazz’s knee.

                He paused in adjusting his visor and stared down at the black fingers, wondering exactly when Sideswipe’s touch had turned from startling to accepted.

                “If I’m going to help you, I won’t be one of your soldiers. At least not in this room,” Sideswipe added.

                Jazz only absently heard Sideswipe’s words, suddenly caught up in staring at his own hands.

                “How the frag,” Jazz growled slowly, lifting his hands into the space between Sideswipe and himself, and watching his fingers tremble, “did you do this?”

                Sideswipe reached out and grasped both of Jazz’s hands, enfolding them in his own. Jazz wanted to flinch away; despite how long he had known Sideswipe and how often they had conspired against the rest of the crew in pranks, the warrior still wasn’t a mech he trusted implicitly. Yet here he was, practically boxed in by the much larger war-build and letting Sideswipe trap his hands.

                “Sunny’s given me lots of practice with identifying things that even he doesn’t know he needs or wants,” Sideswipe said with a wry grin.

                Jazz stared at Sideswipe, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “You… you’re…?”

                “What? You think Sunstreaker’s got me on my knees with a gag in my mouth every night? Only if I tell him to,” Sideswipe said with a wink of one optic.

                “I thought for sure that you were on the…the receiving end…” Jazz said, uncertain how to phrase it without offending the frontliner. He just couldn’t wrap his processor around the idea of strong, angry Sunstreaker submitting to anyone, even his own twin.

                “Sometimes it’s nice to give up control,” Sideswipe admitted, “but Sunstreaker needs that more than I do. And I’ll not deny him anything that he needs; not if I can help it. Sides, I’ve gotten pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”

                He gave Jazz a roguish grin that he couldn’t help snorting at. “Anyway, like I said: we’re not close friends or anything. But I’m happy to help you find what you need. If you think you can trust me.”

                Jazz studied the mech in front of him, the earnest expression on his face, and the gentle sweep of his thumb across the back of Jazz’s hands. Sideswipe’s energy field was calm and pleasant, nothing that screamed of dark motives.

                “I trust you,” Jazz announced, once more speaking before his processor had time to catch up with the rest of his frame.

                “Cool!” Sideswipe said, giving Jazz’s hands a squeeze before releasing them. “Then I’m going to send you some files. Everything you wanted to know about kink. Well, the most common things out there, anyway. Browse them, get an idea of what interests you, what you wouldn’t go near with a forty foot pole, and things you might need more explanation on.

                “Schedule a time with Prime after you read all that. Make sure you have plenty of time to talk, no interruptions. You’ll want his full attention.”

                Jazz’s hand shot out and grabbed Sideswipe’s forearm. “Are you coming with me? To speak with Optimus?”

                Sideswipe blinked at him in surprise. “I wasn’t planning on it; that’s an awfully personal conversation between the two of you.”

                “I don’t think Optimus has ever done this before either. I don’t want to mess up.”

                “I doubt you will,” Sideswipe said. Seeing Jazz’s look of doubt, he spoke again. “But… I can be nearby and available. How about that?”

                 Jazz ex-vented a relieved sigh. “You’re the best, mech. I probably won’t need you, but just in case.”

                Sideswipe nodded thoughtfully. “Optimus may be willing, but if you’re right that he’s never took part in a session before, he may want some pointers. Let him know that I have some more files he can have, or he can ask me directly.”

                 Jazz leaned back in his seat, thoughtfully regarding the red mech still crouched by his chair. “Who _are_ you ?” he asked.

                Laughing, Sideswipe reached for Jazz’s abandoned glass of high grade, knocking it back himself. “I’m still me. You don’t know everything about everyone, you know.”

                He stood up and rubbed the back of his helm nervously, suddenly looking apprehensive. “Uhh… I know you asked me to keep quiet about all this, and I will, course I will. But Sunny’s already got trouble from half the crew, and if it were to get out that he…”

                Jazz shot to his feet, gazing at the frontliner earnestly. “Not a word outta my mouth. I promise you that.”

                “Good,” Sideswipe said, sounding relieved. “Give me a bit to organize those files, and I’ll send them along to you. Let me know if you have any questions and when your talk with Optimus is.”

                “Will do. Sideswipe… thanks,” Jazz said, reaching out and grasping Sideswipe’s arm for a quick squeeze. “I mean it.”

                “My pleasure. Well, I guess not really. Hey…” Sideswipe said, that gleam in his optics returning. “If things don’t work out with Prime, you let me know, huh? I bet I could convince Sunny to share me as long as he got to watch.”

                The frontliner reached out and trailed a finger down Jazz’s chestplate, all the while giving him an exaggerated leer. Jazz actually shelved that idea aside for further contemplation. Sideswipe was easy on the optics, obviously experienced, and had made Jazz respond with just a few words and a look. But… he wasn’t Optimus.

                As if reading Jazz’s processor, Sideswipe took a step back out of Jazz’s personal space, standing in a relaxed yet confident pose. “There doesn’t have to be a relationship. The humans do it all the time – go to places where others dominant them during a session and then they go on their way after everything’s over.”

                “You sure Sunstreaker would be ok with that?” Jazz asked, a little skeptical. There had always been rumors, but as long as Jazz had known the twins, he had never seen them with another mech or femme. They didn’t share well.

                Sideswipe frowned. “I’m not sure. Maybe. Would take a lot of convincing, but he does like you.”

                “I’ll keep it in mind. But…”

                “Prime, yeah, I know. That would be for the best, since you already trust him.”

                “I do,” Jazz replied, not so surprised to find the statement completely true. “But thanks for the offer, Sides, and for talking with me. I’m gonna head out now, let you get cleaned up.”

                Sideswipe looked down at himself, wrinkling his nasal ridges at his dust and dirt-smeared plating. “Ugh. I forgot. Gonna have to clean off the couch too, before Miss Priss gets back.”

                The complaint was fond, and there was a little smile at the corner of Sideswipe’s mouth that made Jazz ache to observe it. No one could ever doubt the love and affection the twins had for one another. Jazz just hoped that he and Optimus could have even a fraction of that.

                “Well, you have fun with that and send me those files when you get a chance. Talk to you soon!” Jazz said, waving a hand and letting himself out. Sideswipe absently waved back as he bent to start brushing the couch off, incidentally giving Jazz an excellent view of the warrior’s shapely aft.

                Something to consider, Jazz mused as he walked down the hallway. Then an image of a relaxed, laughing Optimus quickly crowded out the image of Sideswipe in Jazz’s processor.

               But definitely a last resort.

 ~ End

 

 

So right after I finished 'Students' I had a sudden image of Sideswipe standing beside Optimus behind a trussed up Jazz, and Sideswipe telling Optimus, in this soft, thoughtful voice: "Hit him there. Right there." And Sunstreaker's off to the side, staring at Jazz all jealous-like that Sideswipe's not paying *him* any attention. So I have to write the scene, because it's pretty much burned into my brain, but I wanted at least *some* backstory of how everyone got there. And I apparently can't write just a few hundred words; no Jazz and Sideswipe have to *bond* first. Ugh. I just want to finish Puppy Love and the hundred other projects I have pending!  

               

               

 

 

 


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